


Grey Summers

by nikerek



Series: Prompts [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Fifty Shades of Grey - All Media Types
Genre: Bondage, F/M, NSFW, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-05-27 01:08:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6263527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikerek/pseuds/nikerek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been two years since Ana was found exsanguinated in a downtown Seattle alley. Unable to let go of her death, Christian discovers a hidden supernatural underworld. Sure that Ana's life was taken by a vampire, he uses new connections to hire The Slayer to find his wife's murderer.</p><p> <i>Fifty Shades of Grey was pretty terrible. Christian Grey is an awful person and I feel he took advantage of Ana's innocence and naivete. Buffy's cold, less trusting. She's already had a history of bad boyfriends and isn't looking for another one. So how does Christian handle an attraction to a woman that doesn't need him?</i></p><p>  <i>For Melissa </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Leaving Home

**Author's Note:**

> Being uploaded in small pieces rather than full chapters. 
> 
> Soundtrack:  
> Touch - Daughter  
> Landfill - Daughter  
> Monster - Meg Meyers  
> Poison - Meg Meyers  
> Desire - Meg Meyers  
> Glory Box - Portishead  
> Dangerous Woman - Ariana Grande
> 
> Comment with songs you think fit!

Willow’s eyes popped open mid-meditation at the sound of heavy steps coming up the stairs. She peeked out into the hall, seeing the sliver of light coming from Buffy’s room. She tip-toed to her room, listening to rustling, whispering prayers. She was relieved to see it was only Buffy, but her nerves jumped again as she tore a large suitcase from the closet. “Buffy, where are you going?” Willow spoke softly from the doorway.

 

“I need to get out of here for a while.” Buffy breathed heavily and yanked a dufflebag of holy water and stakes from under her bed. 

 

Willow toyed with the quarter moon charm of her necklace. “But what are you going to do about the girls?”

 

“I’m not their mother.” Buffy dug in the bottoms of her drawers, tossing more stakes and a few silver daggers Willow had never seen into the bag.   “They can take care of themselves.”

 

“Well, sure. But it doesn’t mean they don’t want you around.” Willow watched Buffy stuff long sleeved shirts and sweaters into the suitcase. “Don’t run away, Buffy.”

 

“I’m not running away. I just need a bit of a vacation.” Buffy continued avoiding eye contact.

 

“I thought slayers didn’t get vacations.”

 

“They don’t. My vacation will be kicking vampire ass out of town.” Buffy zipped her suitcase.

 

Willow’s eyebrows raised. “By yourself?”

 

“I can handle it.”

 

Willow pursed her lips.

 

“Don’t look at me like that, Will. I just need some space. And like you said,  _ slayers don't get vacations. _ This is the closest thing I've got.”

 

Willow stretched out her arms and engulfed Buffy in a tight embrace. “You know I’ll always support you. Just keep in touch and come home soon.”

 

She inhaled the scent of sage that lingered on Willow before letting her go. Buffy slid on her coat and grabbed her bag and suitcase. “I’ll be home before you know.”

  
Willow watched her walk into the hall, mouthing a silent spell of safe travels.


	2. First Impressions

“You have arrived at your destination.” The robotic woman of the navigation system informed.

Buffy stopped the rental car in the parking garage of the imposing skyscraper. She squinted at the silhouette by the elevator and pulled the stake from the glove box. She tucked it in the elastic band she had sewn to the lining of her coat and stepped out of the car.

She zipped the leather coat to her neck and shivered, the cold Seattle air more of a change than she expected. She scanned the garage, looking for anything that might be out of place as she made her way to the elevator.

“Buffy Summers, I expected more.” The man by the elevator spoke flatly. His hands still in the pockets of his designer peacoat while he assessed her.  _ I can't even tell if there's muscle under that coat. _

“Looks can be deceiving. Like I'm sure you're not a murderer even though you're lurking in a parking garage at night.”

The man in black cocked an eyebrow, “Touche, Miss Summers.” A cold grin spread his lips. “I don’t normally surround myself with people that speak so freely, especially during first impressions.”

“Stick with me, buddy, and I’ll tell you everything I don’t like about you.”

He chuckled.  _ She pouts those lips anymore, I'll get my first full erection since… _

_ Wait ‘til Willow hears about momma’s boy here. Look at those manicured nails. He's gonna be useless. He's lucky he's rich. _ “So, where's the file your letter said you had?”

“Upstairs.” He pushed the button on the elevator to open the doors. “Let me formally introduce myself. I’m Christian Grey.” He extended his hand. She shook it quickly. Her hand warm despite the weather. He wondered if the rest of her body was as warm.  _ Fuck. _ He tried to keep the deep inhale to himself as she entered the small space. The gentle odor of sunflower surrounded him.  _ It’s like she  _ is _ summer. _ Her back to the right wall, she watched him. He stood opposite of her, his dark eyes on her.  _ I hate blondes _ , he tried to remind himself.

Buffy held the railing and tapped her foot against the carpeted floor.  _ Dude needs to stop eyeing me like I’m a piece of meat before I kick his ass. _ She sighed with relief as the elevator opened.  _ Holy crap _ . “So did you and your apartment come out of GQ or did mommy do the decorating?”

He was suddenly rigid as he threw his coat over the back of an arm chair. “I ask you not to speak of my mother, Miss Summers.”

She rolled her eyes.  _ Mommy issues: Check. _ “Alright, we'll keep this professional, Mr. Grey.”

His dick twitched at the sound of his name rolling off her tongue. “Good idea. Let me get the dossier.” Christian walked briskly to his office. He closed the door behind him.  _ Don't. Don't do it. _ He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. _ Stop thinking like that _ . He slapped his desk and grabbed a tissue. He pulled out his erection and imagined her smart mouth gagged by his dick in his playroom. He squeezed himself hard as he pumped his dry hand quickly along his length.

_ Blonde. Not even that pretty  _ he tried to tell himself as he imagined her wrists bound behind her back and tried not to moan out loud. He held the tissue over his erection and ejaculated into it.  _ Easy cleanup at least _ . He tossed the tissue in the waste basket. Christian pressed his palms against his desk and leaned over the binder filled with the gory details of his wife’s death.  _ What’s wrong with me? _

“Is your office in New York?” The tone of her voice dripped with annoyance. She sat on the couch, her legs crossed. Her coat had been laid over his. She’d made herself at home without the invitation. Heat bubbled beneath Christian’s skin at Buffy’s informality. As his eyes roamed her silhouette on his couch, he began to think of different ways to punish her for each action or phrase out of turn.

“I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. Do you have somewhere you need to be? Or would you actually like to review the case I'm paying you to close?” Christian held himself together.

Buffy glared.

_ If I could only slap her ass every time she gives me that look. _ Christian sat near her on the couch and placed the dossier on the coffee table.

“Right. You're paying me a lot for this.” Buffy lifted the binder and sat it on her lap. She flipped through page after page of police reports and notes from Christian’s private investigator. The girl’s murder reeked of vampire. Buffy’s stomach tightened, the air in her lungs suddenly shallow. The reminder that these creatures were everywhere killing innocent people was hard to swallow.

With his back straight, Christian watched her read the files. The flashes of grief and disgust evident on her face as she turned each page.  _ The Slayer _ . His mind wandered.  _ She’s so young. Guarded. Everything that Ana wasn’t. Ana- _ his muscles tightened as his thoughts spiraled to dark places.

“Trust issues with the Mrs?” Buffy’s voice pulled him out of his own mind.

“What?”

“Your P.I.’s notes date back to before the murder. Why were you having her followed?”

“The details of my marriage aren't important.”

Buffy narrowed her eyes in distrust, “They are if you want me to find the truth. The idea that the private investigator you hired to tail your wife has no idea what happened to her doesn’t add up. Where was he?”

“It’s in the notes.”

“It’s not enough.” Buffy began to flip through the pages rapidly. “That he got distracted by a red head. He failed his job and now your wife is dead.” She paused and cooked an eyebrow. “Or was that his job?”

Christian slammed the file closed on her lap and tossed it on the coffee table. “We’re done here. I'll send you a check for today, but your services are no longer required.”


	3. Loose Lips

Christian stood and waved his hand toward the door. His frustration grew as Buffy crossed her arms, refusing to move.

“Listen, I can believe you didn't murder your wife, but there’s obviously something else that happened that you refuse to tell me and it’s got you feeling guilty. So you can either be honest with me or let it go. You can hire whoever you want, you could spend your entire fortune, but it’s not going to bring her back. So what are we doing here?”

His eyes wide in surprise, “I, uh.”

Buffy stood and looked up to Christian. “Vampires aren't methodical. They hide in dark alleys and feed on anyone that comes along. The hungrier they are, the more dangerous they are.” She pushed her hand into his chest and forced him back onto the couch. Christian's lips parted as he gasped. She had put her hands on a place that made him cringe when someone as dear as Ana even touched him. But all he could do was imagine her losing those tight jeans and straddling him. He loathed his unintended obedience as he remained on the couch. 

Buffy looked down at him. He understood now, there was a power within her that required no display of braun. “Now if there’s a vampire out there, chances are they’re feeding on other people too. My job is to find them and kill them, whether or not you pay me.” She leaned over, her hand on the back of the couch and spoke low. “I’ll find out whatever you’re hiding anyway, so you can either have me on your side so I can protect your secrets or you can let me find out on my own and risk that knowledge getting into someone else’s hands.”

Christian clenched his fists, ignoring the urge to grab her thighs and pull her onto his lap. “Are you threatening me?”

“I don’t need to threaten you, Mr. Grey.” Her face close to his, her cold gaze bored into his grey eyes. 

“Well, Miss Summers, I can’t say I’m not impressed by your tenacity. Sit down.” He took a shallow breath as Buffy pushed herself away and plopped down next to him causing him to bounce a little. 

Buffy reached toward him and grabbed the file. “Whenever you’re ready, Mr. Grey.” 

He squeezed the bridge of his nose. “I think I need a drink first.” 

He rushed into the kitchen and uncorked a bottle of Dom Perignon that would have collected dust had Mrs. Jones not taken such care of the apartment. He indulged in a few sips before suddenly feeling rude. He held the stem of the champagne flute gingerly between his fingers as he stepped back into the seating area. “Would you care for a glass?” He held out his champagne glass to show off the delicate bubbles. 

Buffy tilted her head, “As your hired, fired and re-hired investigator, maybe I should stay sober. I’d also like to make it to my hotel tonight in one piece. A glass of water would be nice, though.” 

He nodded as he left to fulfill her request. He took a few more sips of the champagne and then took a moment to lean on the counter. He looked at his empty glass.  _ Good job. The last you need is less control around a mouthy girl that makes you hard.  _ He took a deep breath and planned on how he would explain his relationship with Ana. He rolled his eyes as he refilled his glass. He fetched a bottled water and retreated back to the couch. 

Buffy noticed the slight glaze in his eyes, but was relieved by slump in his shoulders.  _ Geez, that strung out that only one glass is going to make you less crazy? _ “Thank you.” She unscrewed the cap from the bottle of water he handed her and took a short sip. She licked a remaining water droplet from her lip. 

Christian shuddered as he watched her tongue stretch across her upper lip. He took a deep breath and gripped the champagne flute like a security blanket. He crossed his free arm over his stomach and looked out into the open seating area trying to avoid staring at her. “I’m confiding in you, Miss Summers. Do not let me down.” 

_ Well, I’m going to at least tell Willow, but he doesn’t need to know this. _ “You have my complete silence.” 

_ I’d prefer your obedience.  _  “Alright, so, to know understand Ana and me, you need to understand me.”


	4. Shock Value

Buffy’s legs were tucked beneath her as she leaned into the back of the couch. She hung on every disturbing word that poured from Christian’s mouth.

“I wish I could say it's not as bad as it sounds,” Christian sat the champagne flute on the coffee table and leaned back. He looked at the ceiling. “But years of jealousy and self hatred have given me little self-control over my actions. I loved her deeply.” He shifted in his seat. “But when she’d been spending time with her old friend, Jose, tension between us rose. The more I tried to control her, the more she distanced herself. Her last attempt to keep the peace was an invite to a bar with Jose and a few other old friends.” Christian’s fists clenched. He let out a low, angry growl. “I should've just went with her.”

Buffy straightened up. “So where is this Juan?”

“Welch talked to him. He said she never showed.” He rested his head on the couch and stared at the ceiling. “Of all nights to choose a meeting over my wife.”

Buffy scoffed under her breath and rolled her eyes.

He shot her a cold gaze and grabbed her wrist. “I didn't think you would understand.”

Buffy leaned toward him as the pressure increased her wrist. “Just because I'm not coddling you doesn't mean I don't understand.” She pulled her wrist from his grasp and looked around the open living room. “It's just hard to feel sorry for you.”

“Is that a sad attempt at a joke? Just because you see expensive furnishings doesn't mean I'm not twisted.”

“Twisted? I think you’re self-centered. You act like you’re the only person whose loved and lost.” 

Christian rolled his eyes, “You’re barely an adult. What do you know about love or loss?”

She looked into his eyes, blue like the deep ocean with just as much mystery hiding in their depth. “The love of my life literally lost his soul and became a murderous monster who tried to kill me. As my wooden stake entered his chest, his soul came back. Just in time for him to feel love and regret, but too late to stop what was already in motion. I got to watch him get sent into a Hell by a spell I had helped set up. So you have no clue what twisted is and you have no idea what I’ve seen or done.” She pushed herself into the couch, “I’d kill for your life.”

He hated her, yet he was fascinated by her.  _ She's like me. _ “Let me show you something, Miss Summers.” Christian lifted himself from the couch, woozy from the bottle of champagne he drank as he recounted his strange life. “Follow me.”

Buffy tiptoed behind him, trying to look around him.  _ Geez, even the hallway has expensive art. _ She didn't realize how closely she followed until Christian stopped. “Oof.” She pushed herself away as he stepped back.

Christian closed his eyes and bit his lip. He turned; Buffy’s big brown eyes looked at him in the dim light. 

“Sorry.” She blushed as he towered over her, lingering in silence.  _ What is he doing?  _ Her heart pounded.  _ Is he going to try to kiss me? I think he's going to try to kiss me. _

Buffy was surprised by the disappointment she felt as he shuffled toward the nearest door and fished a key from his pocket. Christian pushed open the door and stepped back. “Go ahead.” 

She looked from him to the dark doorway, squinting as she crossed the threshold. Close behind her, Christian reached for the light switch.

Buffy’s jaw fell slightly as the objects in the room became clear.  _ He failed to mention the sex dungeon in the history lesson of Christian Grey _ . But she would be lying to herself if she said she wasn't intrigued. “What is this?” Her nipples hardened against her bra as she felt the heat of his body against her back.

Her hair tickled his cheek as he put his lips close to her ear. “I call it my playroom. I take petite brunettes that remind me of my coke whore mother here to sexually dominate them. Tell me again, Miss Summers, that I don't know what twisted is.” He relished in her breathy silence.

Buffy would burn this room into her memory. Aroused by the acts that could be performed swirled in her mind. She imagined Angel tied against the wooden posts. Nearly laughed at the idea of Spike discovering such a room. She did her best to ignore the sudden pang of loneliness. “Well, Mr. Grey-”

He sucked in a breath.  _ Tell me you want me. _

Her voice lowered. “I hope you're not expecting me to be some helpless little sex slave.” Buffy faced him. “Because listen here, buddy,” She dug her pointer finger into his chest and lowered her voice, “There's nothing in here that could hold me.” Buffy watched his eyes darken with desire. She trailed her finger down his torso before stepping past him and back into the hallway.

Christian adjusted his erection.  _ Fuck. Was that a challenge?  _ He was slow to follow, disappointed that her next action was slipping in her jacket.

“It's late and you're drunk. I'll start the investigation tomorrow.” She pushed the button to the elevator and pulled her hair over her collar. “You've got my number. Call me tomorrow.”

Christian struggled with the thought of grabbing her and pulling her close, but she was already in the elevator. Buffy stretched her arms out to the railing behind her, the open coat enhancing her shape. He was motionless, except for the rise and fall of his chest. She met his hot gaze with her own lustful stare. 

“Goodnight, Mr. Grey.” The elevator doors closed.


	5. What's Said is Said

Buffy strode through the parking garage with her head held high as if his blue eyes were still on her. Her steps quickened, matching her thumping heart as she neared the luxury rental coupe. She sat behind the wheel, the expression on his face as the elevator doors closed was vivid in her mind as she closed her eyes and took several breaths of disbelief.

“Playroom?! Nothing can hold  _ me _ ?! What just happened?!” Buffy slammed her hands on the wheel and pressed her forehead on her knuckles. She felt a pull in her chest as she imagined Christian’s parted lips and wide eyes. He was as shocked as she was by the ache of curiosity that rippled through her body.

She shook her head. _ What’s wrong with me? _ Buffy pulled a montage of past lovers from memory.  _ What's that saying? “History repeats itself?”  _ Buffy sighed.  _ This isn't going to end well.”  _

She thrust the key in the ignition and debated reliving the scene with Willow. She fished the address of her next destination from her coat pocket and entered it in the GPS. Her head spun as she began the drive to the hotel her new employer had also arranged. Buffy bit back the smile trying to stretch across her lips as she replayed the scene.

“Siri, call Willow.”

******

Christian pressed both hands against the cold Steel of the elevator doors and closed his eyes. “ _ There’s nothing in here that could hold me.” _ Her words echoed in his mind. He walked back to his bedroom and laid down. The champagne had him feeling dizzy; Buffy had him feeling weak. 

He closed his eyes and let the room spin. He pictured every item in his playroom in his blurry thoughts. “We’ll see just what can hold you, Miss Summers.”


	6. Breakfast for a Slayer

The sound of ringing woke Buffy earlier than planned. Eyes still closed, she felt around the nightstand until she found her phone. Eyes blurry with sleep, she was barely able to make out “GREY” on the much too bright screen. Her heart pounded as she faked annoyance to herself with a grumble and an eye roll. “Mr. Grey.” She sighed into the phone.

 

“Good morning, Miss Summers. I’d like to invite you for breakfast. I’d like to find out how you plan on starting this investigation.” 

 

“It’s a little early for breakfast. Give me an hour or two?”

 

“By that point, it will be lunch. Come downstairs.”

 

“You’re here?”

 

_ I’d rather our meetings be in public from now on.  _ He was silent for a moment. “I don’t see a problem with this.”

 

_ Control freak.  _ “Give me 15.” She hung up the phone and dropped it on the bed next to her. She pulled her suitcase from the closet and sifted through her clothes and toiletries.  _ I'll be damned if I'm not going to shower. _

 

Christian stared at his phone.  _ Did she really hang up on me? _ He shoved his phone into the pocket of his slacks. He took swift strides toward the elevator.  _ I'm not trying to go to her room, but I'm not going to just sit and wait forever.  _ His face twisted in anger as he tried to convince himself. 

 

******

 

Still donning the loose sweater and shorts she slept in, Buffy turned on the hot shower water. She gripped the bottom of her sweater to pull it over her head when she heard a pounding on the door. She turned quickly toward the door, taking small, quick steps. Her fists clenched as she saw Christian through the peephole. 

 

Buffy pulled the door open aggressively and stood in the doorway. “Seriously, you couldn't just wait 15 minutes?”

 

“You couldn't have ended our conversation in a less rude manner?”

 

She narrowed her eyes. “You're insane.”

 

“I'm stressed out.” His brows unfurrowed.

 

Buffy sighed. “Just don't take it out on me.”

 

Christian nodded. They stood in silent for a moment, staring at each other.  _ She's even beautiful with yesterday's makeup smeared and messy hair. _ “I'll wait downstairs.”

 

“I can actually make this easy. My plan was to scout the area during the day. Then tonight I was going to show up as a “regular patron.” Figure if there's vampires still hanging around, I'll be able to lure at least one of them into giving me information.”

 

Buffy glared as she watched Christian’s eyes move down her body. “Can I ask how you plan on getting information from a vampire, though?”

 

She rolled her eyes. “Just come in.” She picked up the outfit she intended to wear. “Just sit down on the bed.” Buffy retreated into the bathroom, the door mostly open. “If you recall,” she spoke over the running water, “you hired me based on my skills. So no need to worry about the how.”

 

Christian fidgeted. He tapped his foot on the floor, his fingers clenched the bed sheets next to him.  _ Does she not care about privacy? _ His trousers tightened as he imagined stepping into the shower with her. What her warm, wet body would feel like against his. 

 

_ This is more dangerous than hunting. _ Buffy stared at the ceiling while rinsing the shampoo from her hair, trying to ignore the fact that he's just a slightly open door away. She hated Christian. Despite his wealth and appearance, he was insufferably selfish and withholding.  _ But he's hurting somewhere under all those layers of snob. _ She scrubbed her body with the lather soaked sponge.  _ I know what it's like to hurt. _ And that kinship made her want him. Her chest suddenly felt tight as memories of Angel and Spike rose into her thoughts. Buffy tried to push those thoughts back down where she could avoid them. “If you're not doing anything today, I could use help around the city. I've never been to Seattle.” 

 

Christian’s phone was out of his pocket before she finished her sentence. He typed out a quick email to his assistant to cancel the day’s meetings and not to disturb him. “As your luck would have it, I'm free today.”

 

Buffy smirked and turned off the water and stepped onto the plush mat. She wrapped her hair into a towel before slipping into the soft bathrobe the hotel provided. She stepped back into the room, noticing Christian’s eyes pop art the site of her loose robe. 

 

Her watched her dig into the suitcase and fish it a small bag.  _ I'd bally have to tug at the belt and she'd be naked in front me.  _

 

“I'll be like 5 more minutes. Let me just put on some makeup and get dressed. Then you can take me to breakfast and show me the city.”

 

Christian nodded, afraid that if he opened his mouth it would be to tell her to come closer.  _ I can't. Ana- She's here for Ana.  _ I _ brought her here for Ana. _ But he was still hard. He stood as Buffy walked back into the bathroom. He paced and took heavy breaths to regain control. He took his phone it if his pocket, the work emails proceed to be a good distraction. 

 

Buffy stepped out again, this time fully dressed. Her hair damp and wavy, makeup subtle, pastel sweater hung off one shoulder, and her frayed jean shorts showed off the creamy this he had been aching to get between. “Wait.” She slipped on a pair of oversized sunglasses and pouted. “Do I fit in?”

 

She looked so casual, a little unkempt. “You look just like half the girls I saw walking into this place.” _ Yet I didn’t want to fuck any of them. _

 

She sat on the bed and pulled on a pair of calf length Ugg boots. “I'll take that as a compliment.” Christian tilted his head slightly as Buffy stood and leaned over her suitcase. She slipped a stake into her fashionable cross body bag and swung the strap over her shoulder. “Well I’m finally ready. Let’s go get some food!.” 

 

Buffy walked passed Christian to the door. She looked back to see him standing still, eyebrows raised in curiosity.  _ It's not everyday people watch you put a stake in your purse. Well, he'll get use to it. _ “You coming?”

 


	7. The Alley Where it Happened

Buffy slouched in the passenger seat of Christian’s sports car, her sunglasses hiding her closed eyes. She sighed softly, her large breakfast settling. Sleep tried to take her with the lulling of the car’s movement and the heated seats. 

 

Christian glanced at her while speeding through downtown Seattle’s busy streets. His knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel.  _ Jesus Christ. _ He rolled his eyes. He was lonely, missing Ana’s willingness to please him and be pleased. Buffy was physically in his reach, but emotionally withdrawn.  _ She flirts, she teases, but she keeps her distance. _ She shifted in the seat, her thighs rubbing together as she moved. His stomach tightened, he tried to keep an erection at bay.  _ She’s so close. It wouldn’t even take a full reach to touch her thigh _ .

 

Buffy yawned and straightened herself in the seat. She pushed her sunglasses on top of her head. “Sorry I keep dozing off. Breakfast was just so good and it’s so warm and comfortable in this car.”

 

Christian kept his head forward. “Good timing. We’re almost there.” He made a few slow turns down side streets into a seedier part of Seattle hidden away from the main roads.

 

Buffy eyed the debris from the graffiti-laden dumpsters. It was a familiar sight from her long nights of hunting. 

 

Christian pulled into a gravel lot and pointed to the worn building before them. “This is the bar.”

 

“Scary place for a millionaire to be wandering.” She turned in her seat, taking note of each path from the bar. 

 

“Ana was naive.”  _ She would have never thought there was anything to fear. _

 

_ What kind of person has no confidence in their spouse?  _ Buffy bit her cheek. “Can you show me where they found her?”

 

_ Don’t make me go back.  _ He took a breath. “Yeah.”

 

**********

 

Christian watched in silence as Buffy ran her hands along the cracked concrete where Ana was found. She squinted as she searched for anything strange and unusual down the alley. 

 

Buffy stood, her eyes trying to find scratches in an odd place, or a symbol in the graffiti that looked more like something from Willow’s spell books. She searched behind the dumpster, held her breath as she looked inside. “How much do you know about this area?”

 

“What do you need to know?”

 

“Do people actually live in any of these buildings?”

 

“Some are apartments, some are offices. With the surrounding few blocks being so rundown, the police found a lot of vacant spaces.” Christian pulled out his phone and began texting Welch.

 

“I’ve seen nests of vampires in rundown buildings. Pale, secretive, hungering… They’d probably look like crack addicts to a cop.”

 

Christian kept his eyes on his phone and tried to keep his stress levels from rising.  _ Not a bad detective.  _ “I’ll look into what they know about these buildings.” He looked to Buffy. “So what’s our next step.”

 

She tapped her sunglasses back onto her nose. “I want to see this place in action.”

 

Christian started walking back to his car. “Well, we have hours before the bar even opens.”

 

“Yeah, maybe we should head out here around the same time she would’ve shown up. Follow any patterns. So, you can just drop me off at the hotel, I'd like to get in a good workout before tonight.”

 

“Are you going to workout at the hotel?” He slipped back into the driver’s seat of the luxury automobile. 

 

Buffy was happy to feel that the seat was still warm as she closed the door and buckled in. “Well, yeah. I peeked at it last night and noticed they have a punching bag, I can work with that.”

 

_ I’m not ready to leave you yet.  _ “How about I take you to my personal trainer? He runs a state of the art gym and will be able to give you a better workout than a punching bag.”

 

“Alright. Just take me to get my gym clothes.” Hiding behind the oversized sunglasses, she looked at him.  _ I hope he works out shirtless.  _ Her cheeks reddened as she turned her sights to the slow passing scenery.

 

“That I can do, Miss Summers.”  The engine of the car purred as he took them back into Seattle’s downtown traffic.

 


	8. Better than a Punching Bag

_ How is everything so immaculate? Everywhere this guy goes oozes “Hope you have a ton of money!”  _ Buffy stood in front of the wall-length mirror and pulled her long hair into a ponytail. Her unruly bangs hung over her eyes. She swept them to the side and tucked them behind her ear.  _ Alright, time to go see what this trainer is all about. _

 

_ She isn’t serious, is she? _ Christian grimaced at Buffy’s bright pink leggings and black tank top with matching pink zig-zags up the sides.  _ Where’s the muscle? I thought she was some prophetic fighter? _

 

“So, where’s the trainer?” Buffy looked around the brightly lit gym that had every piece of equipment she could ever imagine, except for a punching bag.  _ And where’s the photographer because he seriously looks like a sporting catalogue page right now. That dri-fit tee probably costs more than my phone. _

 

“Mr. Grey!” Called a deep, happy voice. “How are you today?”

 

“Claude,” Christian looked to Buffy, “This is Buffy Summers, a new employee.” He looked back to Claude, “She has some background in self-defense and was hoping for a proper sparring partner.” 

 

Claude grinned as he assessed Buffy. “ Buffy, interesting name. Well let’s head upstairs to the Fighting Center.” Claude nodded for them to follow as he strutted towards doorless stairwell. “Upstairs you’ll see a boxing ring and an MMA cage, along with your standard training equipment.” The three ascended a large metal spiral staircase. “Bags, jump ropes, a practice mat. The good stuff.” 

 

Upstairs made Buffy more comfortable. The equipment was worn, the lights weren’t as bright. The brick walls with spots of padding reminded her of the makeshift gym Giles made for her. Her chest suddenly felt heavy with nostalgia.

 

“Alright, Buffy,” Claude picked up a pair of focus mitts. “I want to see what you’ve got.” He bent his knees and held his arms out. “Hit as hard as you can.”

 

“Well, I don’t know about hitting as hard as  _ I _ can.” Buffy put her weight on her left leg.

 

Claude and Christian exchanged a glance. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Claude smirked.

 

Buffy’s eyes narrowed into slits.  _ You want it? You got it. _ “I’m not going to say I didn’t warn you.” She took her natural fighting stance: left foot a little head of her left to keep her balance as she cocked her right arm back before unleashing her fist forward at Claude’s padded left hand. The impact was loud thud. Christian’s eyes widened. Claude groaned in pain as his arm buckled under the hit. He fell to one knee.. 

 

He shook the glove off. “What the-” Claude looked to Christian, who extending a hand. 

 

“She’s also done some security work.”

 

“She’s easy to underestimate. I guess you made a good decision hiring her.” Claude’s breathing was shaky. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to excuse myself and ice my hand. Feel free to use whatever equipment you’d like.” 

 

When Claude disappeared down the staircase, Christian circled Buffy. “He’s right. I’ve been underestimating you this entire time.”

 

“As I recall,  _ you _ reached out to  _ me _ because of  _ my talents _ . It’s not my fault you can’t see passed my average frame.” 

 

“Spar with me.”

 

Buffy laughed. “You saw what happened to Claude, right?”

 

Christian cracked his knuckles. “Yes, but I’m also not asking for you to hit as hard as you can. Fight me.”

 

Buffy bounced on the balls of her feet and shook out her arms. “Your funeral, buddy.”. 

 

“Show me what you can do.” Christian jabbed at her. 

 

Buffy ducked and tapped his stomach with her closed fist. “Not even gonna lace up?”

 

“Why? The ones you’re hunting aren’t going to be laced up.”

 

“Good point.” She kicked her leg out before Christian realized she was on the offense. Her foot swept his legs and he fell backwards. 

 

“Oof!” He began to laugh. Flat on his back, he looked up at Buffy, her bangs were loose around her face.  

 

“Show me what  _ you’ve _ got, Mr. Grey.” She said with a toothy grin.

 

Christian kicked his legs up, propelling the rest of his body into the air before landing on his fee. He reached over his head and tugged the t-shirt off his body. He threw it down near the pads. “Happy to oblige, Miss Summers.” 

 

His fists were faster this time or was she distracted?. He struck in quick short jabs as he took small quick steps toward her. He targetting the sides of her abdomen. Her dodging kept from feeling the brunt of his fists. He moved her backwards across the gym, she kept up pace with ease, his punches now missing her completely.  _ I don’t want to hurt her, but I don’t think I can.  _

 

Buffy was over backing up and decided to backflip away from as Christian attempted a series of leg kicks. 

 

_ What the f-  _ he thought as he watched Buffy’s foot fly towards his face. Christian juked to the left and put his right fist up and over her ankle. He palmed her ankle and held it against his shoulder. He stepped forward, forcing Buffy to hop back. 

 

“Egh” she let out as her back hit the padded wall. Her palms slapped the wall, her heart fluttered.  _ You’re sparring a human, don’t get too rough _ .

 

_ The positions I could tie her into.  _ Christian moved closer, her leg stretching between them, his hands moving down her shin. His body grew closer to hers. 

 

A wave of heat pulsed under her skin as his blue eyes stared at her in the silence. Her body craved his hands to move to her thigh, clouding her judgment. Buffy blinked, her mind regaining control. She pressed her sweaty palms further into the padded wall behind her. Using his shoulder for balance, she kicked her right leg out and bent her knee letting her calf slam into the back of his knee. He fell to his knees, but she fell with him. He kept hold of her leg until his back smacked the padding. 

 

Quickly, Buffy let her back fall to the floor and she kicked her feet as his shoulders. Christian groaned as his back and head hit the padded floor. While a bit disoriented, Buffy pushed herself forward and lunged onto his stomach. Her legs squeezed his sides and she pinned his forearms were her hands. She leaned forward, slightly panting. “I’ll admit, Mr. Grey, you’ve got some moves.” 

 

_ I never thought I’d regret being called Mr. Grey. _ It took tremendous effort to stave off an erection. Christian pushed his upper body off the floor, unexpectedly rolling Buffy onto her back. He held his knees against her outer thighs and held down her forearms. “I guess there’s just a lot of underestimating going around.”

 

“You’re still doing it.” With shear strength, Buffy moved her forearms forward, Christian moved back as she continued pushing. He looked between both of her arms, stunned at her power. She then spread her knees, forcing his legs to part. With his balance unsteady now, she threw her arms out to the side wide. Buffy turned her head as Christian collapsed on top of her, his face smacked into her neck. She tried to ignore the pulse of need emanating from between her legs as she felt his hot breath against her skin.

 

Christian struggled from the tight grip that suddenly constricted is upper arms and torso.  _ Shit. _ He panicked, unable to stop his erection.  _ Why do I want her so fucking much? _

 

Buffy felt the tension and rolled him onto his back. Her grip loosened and she pushed herself backward into a somersault where her feet found purchase and she was back into a fighting stance. She looked down at him, noticing sweat bead on his chest.  _ God, it’s been so long. _ She stretched her neck to push down thoughts of how easy it would be for her to pin him and take him here. “Had enough?”

 

_ Not fucking nearly. _ Christian stood and put himself into a fighting stance. His eyes wandered across her body.  _ She’s strong and smart. I need to be smarter. _ He jabbed at her head, which she dodged as usual. But when she returned the punch as she normally did, he grabbed her right wrist with his right hand.

 

_ Oh, shit.  _ Buffy watched the gym spin as he turned her around quickly. She felt Christian’s long fingers also wrap around her other wrist as she stumbled against him. He held her wrists firmly at her sides.  _ Oh, shit. _ Her nipples hardened against her tight shirt. She was feeling weak. 

 

Christian kept his arms straight as he pulled her wrists back. His cheek against the side of her head, he looked down. His erection stiffened against her lower back. He sucked in a breath when Buffy’s hips pushed back against him.  _ Tell her. Tell her how much you want to tear her clothes from her body and fuck her right here while everyone is just below us running on their treadmills and lifting weights. _

 

Buffy could feel the wetness spread between her legs as he pushed himself against her.  _ Just do it. Put me out of my misery, push me against this wall and take me right here. _

 

“Oh no! Has he got you in a position you can’t get out of?”

 

They scowled at the sound of Claude’s voice.

 

Christian’s grip on Buffy’s wrists tightened in anger.  _ Damnit! _

 

_ It’s for the best. _ Buffy took advantage of Christian’s grip and jumped into a wall run. She pushed off of the wall, and flipped backwards over his head. Somewhere during the process, Christian lost his grip on her. He turned around, once against stunned by her abilities. Buffy grabbed his wrists in revenge and pushed him backwards until he was against the wall. She held his wrists above his head. “Could you imagine if this was foreplay? How rough would the sex be?” She whispered out loud by mistake. Taken aback by her own words once again, she released him and turned around to face Claude. “There’s nothing I can’t handle.” 

 

Claude laughed. Christian let the wall hold him up as he watched her walk toward the stairs.

 

“I’m gonna go get some cardio in.” She turned back, still aching for Christian. “Let me know when you’re ready to go.”

 

*******

 

Claude stretched his hand after Buffy left. “Where did you find that one?”

 

Christian picked up a roll of gauze and began to wrap his hands. “She came highly recommended from a military friend.” 

 

“She’s perfect. No one’s going to think twice about a cute girl like that asking for information. And if they do, they might not live to act on it.”

 

_ Perfect.  _ Christian nodded while walking towards the large punching bag. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.” He tucked in the end of the gauze and took out his frustrations on the bag.


	9. Suspicious Men and Distracting Women

Buffy sighed through a smirk at the seedy nightclub doors. The soft glow of light from the nearby street lamp, the muffle of music from inside; it was a comforting nostalgia in this strange place. But the feeling vanished when she swung open the door. The walls were a dark blue hue, the floors were painted black. The colorful lasers from the DJ’s booth bounced around the room as the heavy beats moved a variety of dancers. The bitter scent of hard liquor and sweat filled her nose. 

 

“That’ll be twenty.” The bouncer’s deep voice startled her. 

“Oh, right. Okay.” She pulled her phone from her tight jeans’ pocket and pulled money from its attached card and money clip. 

 

“Although, if you wanna take off your coat and do a little twirl, I’ll let you in for free.”

 

She scowled and tossed a $20 bill at him.

 

“Aight, mama. No need to get nasty. Go on in.” He lifted the velvet rope and nodded toward the bar. 

 

Buffy pushed her hips away keeping as much distance as possible and slid through the ropes. She wasn’t too worried about a stalker, though, as he was already hitting on a group of loud, flirty women entering behind her.

 

She shrugged off the fitted leather coat and gave it to the coat check in before walking up to the bar. Her long blonde hair cascaded down her bare back as she leaned against the edge of the bar. The bartender had been in a rush, flitting from patron to patron. It must have been the gleam of her shimmery halter top because he spotted her right away. 

 

Ignoring customers who had been there longer, he asked her, “What can I get you, gorgeous?”

 

“Shot of tequila.” She smiled. The alcohol will be out of her system in minutes with her healing rate, but no one will think twice about the tiny blonde doing shots.

 

He poured the shot, “Don’t mess around. I like it.” 

 

“How much I owe you?” She felt like she was shouting over the music.

 

“First one’s on me.” He winked.

 

Buffy downed the shot and slammed the shot glass on the bartop playfully. She put a $10 next to it. “I’ll be back later.”

 

She looked around the crowded dance floor.  _ Maybe I should’ve waited. _ She felt suddenly alone - a feeling that she’d been experiencing more and more, but never quite got use to.

 

“Hello, beautiful.” Said a smooth voice from behind. 

 

She whipped her head around to find an attractive man looking down at her. “H-hi.”  _ AM I 12?  _ She looked back to the crowd on the dance floor. Her cheeks flared with warmth. 

 

“The DJ’S good tonight. Wanna dance?” His eyes flicked to a group of men on the balcony as he waited for her to answer. She followed the look to a man in a navy suit leaning against the railing next to a redhead with a body that made her self-conscious. 

 

“Will his stare set me on fire if I say no?” Buffy kept eye contact with the man in the navy suit.

 

“Hah, that's just my brother. He’s been following my every move since we lost our dad. Very protective, but he's harmless, just seriously nosy.” He shrugged. 

 

“Oh, sorry about your dad, but a man that looks as important as he does probably has a right to be nosy.”

 

“Heh, yeah, I guess he does. He does own this club.” He looked her over, “So, whaddya say?”

 

“Oh, well yeah. Dancing with the owner’s brother has got to have its perks.” She winked and led him onto the dance floor.

 

===

 

Christian cringed as broken glass crunched beneath his brown leather dress shoes. The gravel-laden parking lot was a much seedier sight at night. He shoved his hands in the pockets of the designer jacket that intentionally matched his shoes to hide his Bulgari watch. 

 

_ I don't why we couldn't at least drive over together. For all I know she could also be dead in an alley. _ Christian frowned when he noticed Buffy’s rental, thinking he arrived before her. He was anxious and furious. Jaw clenched, his teeth were grinding before he even entered.

 

===

 

The stranger pushed her soft blonde locks over her shoulder as Buffy rubbed her backside against his groin teasingly. The music was loud and fast, it made her feel wild and primal. Her hands roamed her body as she slithered against the handsome stranger. She felt young and forgot why she had even come here until she lifted from a seductive hair flip to see Christian’s stone-grey eyes glowering at her. 

 

===

 

_ Fucking Christ.  _ Christian clenched his fists in an envious rage.  _ I don’t want her. _ He told himself as he walked to the bar and ordered a bottle of top shelf whiskey. By the time Buffy reached him, he was three shots in.

 

“Chri-”

 

He towered over her, “I don’t care if you wanna have a fucking party, not on my dime, Ms. Summers, not on my fucking dime.”

 

“Hey,” the handsome stranger stepped behind Buffy. “Everything alright here?”

 

Her heart pounded in her ears as Christian’s chest puffed out slightly.  _ I can work with this. _ Her honey eyes were suddenly doe-like. She batted her eyelashes, “Nothing like running into your ex while you’re grinding on a handsome stranger.” She faked a sad smile. “Can you just give us a minute?”

 

“Yeah, yeah sure.” He moved to the other side of the bar, his eyes never leaving her.

 

Christian took a deep breath of annoyance. “Can I ask what the fuck you’re doing?”

 

“Yeah, wondering why ‘fuck’ is your word of the day.”

 

His eyes narrowed. “You’re not funny. This isn’t funny.”

 

“You’re wrong. I am funny. But you’re right, this situation isn’t, but this is sometimes what I have to do. I came in early for surveillance and already caught the attention of the owner’s brother. That guy on the second level in the navy blue suit? Yeah, looks shady as hell and thanks to your angry mood, he’s going to take me up there to make sure  _ you _ don’t bother me.” She pointed his chest and he flinched. “Do whatever you want. I’ll text you if I think things are getting too shady.”

 

Christian looked between her and the stranger across the bar. “Come to the Penthouse when you’re done.”

 

Buffy raised one eyebrow, “Not sure I’ll feel like getting yelled at in the middle of the night, but I guess I’ve been through worse. See you later.” She turned and made her way to the handsome stranger, the ends of her hair tickling her back as she walked.

 

Christian felt the stir of an erection as the light hit the pale skin of her back. He took another shot of whiskey and debated calling Welch to pick him up. But a tall, brunette with a curvy silhouette and eyes full of hunger kept him from reaching for his phone.

“Allow me to apologize for being too forward in advance, but I have this fantasy of your body being against mine.” A soft foreign accent he couldn’t place accentuated her sultry voice. 

 

He glanced at Buffy on balcony with her new friend. “Allow me to make that a reality.” His head was fogging up as the liquor caught up to him after the rush of adrenaline. He felt like he was floating as she led him to the middle of the dancefloor. Bodies rubbed against each other everywhere. This beautiful brunette moved her hips side to side and watched him follow suit. He glanced at the white stone dangling in her plunging cleavage. She was gorgeous; a perfect specimen to dominate, but it wasn’t what he wanted. Christian grabbed her waist and spun her around. He pressed against her back and closed his eyes. In this heavy buzz she was someone else, someone he wanted to caress. He reached down her body, his hands feeling the skin of her thighs under the hem of her short dress. He brought his hands up, inching her shirt up just enough to make her gasp in desire. Christian dragged his hands up her body and over her breasts. He pushed her hair from her neck and whispered a thought for someone else, “You make me crazy.”

 

===

 

Buffy’s mouth hung open as her grip tightened on the railing. Her stomach taught as she glared down at Christian.

 

“Spiteful guy, huh?”

 

“Sorry, I’m so rude. I didn’t even catch your name.” She turned angrily away from Christian’s erotic display.

 

“Jesse.”

 

“Nice to formally meet you, Jesse. I’m Claire.”

 

The man in the navy suit approved and placed a hand on Jesse’s shoulder. His grin was large and territorial. “Jesse, who’s your guest?”

 

“Claire.” Buffy held out her hand for a shake. “You must be the brother.”

 

He looked at her hand and reluctantly shook it. “The name is Dameon Slant. And what else has my brother told you?”

 

_ Dameon. Is it psychological to be a douche when you have a name like Dameon?  _ “Not much. Just that you own this club, which is amazing by the way.”

 

Dameon tugged at his lapels, “I should hope so. I put every cent our father left us into this place.”

 

“Alright, Dameon. Well we’re just gonna hang out here for a while, if you don’t mind.” Jesse interjected.

 

“By all means. I hope you enjoy the VIP lounge, Claire.” Dameon gave Jesse a stern look before walking away.

 

“Oh, the VIP lounge? Never really did the VIP thing at a club.” 

 

Jesse’s brows scrunched slightly with worry. “Actually, I’m not really feeling the whole VIP treatment tonight. Wanna go back downstairs and make your ex jealous some more?”

 

Buffy rushed a glance to the lower level, not finding a trace of Christian anywhere. But relief settled her nerves when she the saw the beautiful brunette dancing with another man. “Looks like he left.” She looked back at Jesse, “Guess we don’t have to worry about him at all.” Buffy’s phone buzzed. Jesse watched her curiously as the large screen lit up her face. **_Don’t be alarmed by my car in the lot. Drank too much. Welch will pick me up._** She looked at Jesse. “Oh, I’m so sorry. My roommate’s drunk texting me about puking on the bathroom floor.” She tilted her head to the side to show Jesse she was disappointed. “I have to go.” 

 

“Oh, well, let me walk you out.”

 

“No, that’s okay. In a rush.” She began to head down the stairs and toward the coat check. She turned around, “Wait, can I get your number?”

 

Jesse grinned, “Absolutely.”

 

===

 

Buffy waited for the coat check girl to get her jacket when she texted Christian back.  **_You’re still here?_ ** His reply was almost immediate.  **_Out front waiting._ ** Buffy stifled a grin.  **_Call him off. I’m leaving, too._ **

 

===

 

Buffy slipped on her jacket as she walked toward the exit. The bouncer opened the door and she was pelted with a cold mist.  _ When did it start raining? _ The bouncer chuckled at her displeased reaction.

 

Christian stood under the awning, cold and tipsy. “Is your date over?”

 

How quickly her mood was taken down a notch. “Probably ended around the same time you came all over that girl’s ass on the dance floor.” 

Christian’s eyes were wide, and so were hers. They both wondered if she meant to say it out loud. 

 

“I just mean you don’t have to be such a dick.” She signed lightly.  _ Because that made it better. _ “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

 

===

  
The drive was quiet except for the GPS automated voice instructing Buffy where to turn. Christian examined her from the passenger seat in his whiskey-haze. Everything he’s seen her do, she’d done with a confidence and self-assurance that many who strive for it never achieve, even driving. He traced her profile in his mind between flickers of lights from cars and lampposts. Christian barely paid attention to the road ahead, he didn’t feel the need. She knew where they were going and he trusted her to get them there.  He rested his head on the car seat and inhaled the scent of sunflowers and rain.


	10. Bruised Hearts and Bruised Faces

The walk to the elevator was just as silent as the ride back to Christian’s penthouse. He pressed the Call button and the doors opened immediately. He held out a hand for her to enter first. As she stepped in, she noticed the red tint of his glossy eyes. 

“How are you feeling?” She asked as the doors closed.

He made a soft sound in his throat before answering. “I don’t like to drink much. I don’t particularly enjoy the loss of control. Yet, in the two days I’ve known you, I’ve been drunk twice.” Grimacing, he was brought back to the moment of watching another’s hands roam her small frame. Christian’s knuckles went white as he held the railing behind him. These feelings of desire were not new to him, but he was surprised he'd feel them again so soon and for someone like her. He hated himself for it.

“You know what?” She leaned against the elevator and looked down, the palm of her flats scraping against the tile floor. She brought her gaze up, a smirk forming at the corners of her lips remembering his revenge dance with the busty brunette. Buffy allowed herself the pleasure of getting under his skin. “I think you like it. I bet no one ever tells you ‘No.’ You have all the control. I think you enjoy relinquishing it once in awhile.”

He felt his dick pulse. The color of his eyes seemed to darken as his jaw clenched. He wanted to show her just how wrong she was, just how much he enjoyed control when the elevator doors chimed and opened, stripping away the building moment from both of them.

“You’re still drunk and it’s late, Mr. Grey. Call me  tomorrow and we’ll talk about what the VIP section had to offer.” Buffy hit the button to close the doors. Her chest pounding.  _ Smart. You’re too amped up. Too lonely. And so is he. _

===

The storm raged as she pulled into the parking garage of the hotel. The staff was courteous as usual, nodding as she walked through the lobby. She couldn’t stop thinking about the look on his face, begging for a challenge. Buffy did her best to ignore the ache between her thighs. She decided  she’d be relieving some of the tension herself as she opened the door with her keycard. 

_ What the hell?! _ Her room in chaotic disarray. The mattress was against the wall, the drawers were opened and emptied. The contents of her suitcase were spilled everywhere. Instinctively, she reached into the inside of her jacket and pulled a smooth wooden stake from the inner holster. She’d been in town for two days and someone was already suspicious of her. She was relieved to have put her weapons in the trunk of car so in case housekeeping hadn't been honest. 

_ Hopefully they were stupid enough to leave something behind. _ Buffy tiptoed around the bed, kicking clothes around searching for something the intruder may have dropped. The bathroom door swung open, startling her. She stared wide-eyed at the large, burly man stood in the doorway and immediately took a defensive stance.

“Welcome to Seattle.” He lunged at her with speed that she wasn’t expecting. They toppled over the exposed bed frame. The brute landed on top of her, she heard her stake hit the floor along with the back of her head. His hands wrapped around her throat.

“You’re really bad at this whole welcome committee thing,” Her voice gruff under the pressure. He squeezed harder. Buffy kept her focus on her next moves so she didn’t panic. She clawed at his forearms, she could feel skin bunch beneath her fingernails. He groaned in pain, his grip loosening. Buffy jabbed her fists on each side of his ribs. The burly man tightened a fist and hit her jaw. Her head turned the side, she winced in pain, but used the moment to grab his arm with both hands and pull his torso against hers. She kicked out her legs using the momentum to roll him to the side, gaining enough leverage to slip from his grasp and claw back to her feet.

“You’re a slippery one. But I’ve got tricks, too.” He roared as his face contorted. His forehead protruded, hooding his suddenly bright yellow eyes. It was a look she’s seen countless times, yet never ceased to make her nervous. 

“Well then, you know who I am and you know you won’t be making it out alive.” Buffy steeled herself and glanced around the room. There wasn’t enough space to run, she’d never get the door open behind her, she had to finish this. 

He laughed, showing off the large, sharp teeth and swung a large fist toward her face. She ducked at the last minute and drove a fist into his ribs. He stumbled. Buffy reached for her stake. He stood, looking ready to attack again, but she quickly swiped a shirt from an open dresser drawer and flung it at his face. Surprised by the yellow cloth closing in on his face, he focused on grabbing the shirt and it was just enough time to sway the fight in her favor. She sprung forward and jammed the stake into his chest. He turned to ash at her feet, the yellow shirt falling on top of the pile.

Buffy breathed heavily, the adrenaline still pumping. She wanted to continue searching for clues, but she was sure he wasn't alone. It would only be a matter of time before someone came to check on him. So she rushed out of the room and down the hall.  _ Where can I go?! Should I go to another hotel?  _ A pang of loneliness stabbed her heart. She’d give anything for a comforting embrace, but she left that in California. So she was off the closest thing she had: sexual tension and cold glares.

===

Buffy slammed the buzzer so many times she thought she broke it. 

“4 AM.” Christian’s voice was scraggly. He did nothing to hide the anger.

“Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed. Just let me up.” She adjusted the dufflebag strap on her shoulder, the weapons inside clattering as they shifted. There was no response, but the elevator doors opened. 

Christian had been pacing, waiting for the elevator to open. He kept combing his hair with his fingers in worry.  “Since when is that damn thing take so long?” Soft cotton sweatpants hung at his hips. He’d forgotten to put on a shirt before answering the call. His chest tightened when the elevator rang, he paused in front of it, waiting for what felt like forever for the doors to open. 

Christian’s eyes widened when she saw her. Buffy’s hair was still disheveled, a bruise had formed near her mouth. Her lower lip was swollen. But he could still not move.

Buffy rushed out of the elevator and passed him. Her thoughts whirling. “So I don’t know how anyone found out about me, but a vampire was waiting for me in my room.” She dropped the weapons bag on the floor. Her shoulders slumped when she noticed his expression. She could see the worry in his eyes, it made her nervous. She tugged at the bottom of her jacket as he stepped toward her. “ I didn’t know where else to go. I’m sorry I woke y-.”

Christian grabbed her face gently with both hands. His thumb brushed against her bruise. She winced. Her heart pounded. “You’ll stay here from now on.”

She felt like crying, but did her best to hold back tears. The pent up emotions she thought she could bottle up by taking this job, by leaving her home for a little while had piled on top of new ones. This gentle embrace was almost enough to cause an explosion. Buffy nodded. She wanted to folder herself against his chest, listen to his heartbeat until she calmed down, but she just stared into those dark grey eyes.

Christian dropped his hands, his usual scowl was back. “I’ll call the hotel for your things and to find out how the fuck they could’ve let someone into your room like that.” He turned away, his bare feet smacking off the fine marble floors. He looked back at her. “Hungry? Thirsty?”

She felt deflated. “Tired.”

He lifted her duffle bag. “Of course. The guestroom is all yours.”


	11. Stay

Buffy stood in front of the wall of windows in the pristine living room watching the storm over the Seattle skyline. The lights shimmered in the heavy rain. The thunder rumbled through the clouds, it was a soothing sound. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. Her wet hair dampened the button up she took from the dresser, adding to the chill.

Her thoughts churned from the night’s events, she couldn’t relax. Someone knew about her, sent someone to kill her. It was an uneasy feeling to know that someone may have have been watching her, that someone may have followed her here. 

Christian stood at the edge of the hallway. There was slight flutter in his stomach seeing her in his shirt. The back barely hung over her bottom. He could've watched her all night, the lightning caressing her shape between rolls of thunder. “Couldn’t sleep, Miss Summers?” 

Her shoulders shook by the surprise. She turned, her face was hot.  _ Of course. _ She wanted to kick herself for not slipping on pants before coming out here. She expected she’d be back into the guest room before he awoke. “Not even a little.” She squeezed her cold legs together. He was still without a shirt, she noticed.  _ Why can't you put on a shirt?  _ She whined to herself. 

“Can I do anything for you?” It was a loaded question - they were both burning with emptiness.

She dug her nails into her elbows and shook her head. “I'm good. Thanks. I'm just still on edge. How did he know about me? Where I was staying? Did he follow me to Seattle or did I get on someone’s radar? I feel- weird.”

Christian sat down on the living chair facing her. His face serious. The lightning lit her silhouette and he dug his fingers into his knees. “I’ve been looking into this mystery for a year, it’s not a secret. There’s a few people that would know you have been contracted.” He scowled. “I do not trust easily, Miss Summers, so I’ll know in a few hours exactly who’s betrayed me.”

“I can’t tell if that makes me feel better or worse.” Her muscles were tense, her jaw still sore. “I should probably try to get some rest for tomor- well, later today.” She walked between the furniture, her legs bare, much closer to him than she could handle.

“Wait, what's going on today?” 

She looked back at him. “Um, patrolling for more vampires.” Buffy spoke slowly, confused that he he already forgot her job here.

Christian stood up quickly and faced her. “No. You think I'm going to let you out there after what just happened?”

Buffy’s hands fell at her sides, her brain taking an extra second to process what he had said to her. “You think this is the first time I've been punched in the face?” Her condescending laugh echoed through the living room. “I've been through  _ much _ worse than this.”

“Maybe so, but I don't want to see it get any worse. You're staying here. Welch will keep guard when I'm not around.”

Her face was red with rage now.  _ I’m not your wife. I'm not just some submissive little girl.  _ “Let's get one thing straight, Mr. Grey,” she spat his name, “I am a Slayer. This is what I do, I hunt down vampires, demons and whatever else goes bump in the night. Sometimes I get hurt, but I'm not some little girl that needs sheltered.” She had inched towards him as her voice rose. 

Christian looked down at her, his mouth twisted with annoyance. “Well what am I supposed to do when you come here in the middle of the night bruised up? Nothing? Just let you get beat up?”  _ You're so stubborn. _

_ Control freak.  _ “I didn't come here to cower.”

“Then why did you come here? Of all the places in Seattle, why here? Why wake  _ me _ up at 4am and scare the shit out of me?” His skin ached at the warmth of her body, inches away from his.

“You think I had a choice? You think I wanted to come here. I had nowhere else to go!”

“Another hotel!”

Buffy paused and swallowed hard. “Yeah, no, you're right. You're my boss, this is weird. I'm just gonna get my stuff.” She stepped back and retreated into the hall.

Christian stood still in confusing at the sudden end of the argument. The look on her face had seared his thoughts. It was only a brief second, but he saw the blatant hurt on her face.  _ Why do I even care?  _ He took a deep breath, he ran his fingers through his hair. He started down the hallway.

“Oh.” Buffy nearly ran into him as she rushed out of the guestroom. 

He stepped back, she was already fully dressed, her duffle bag slung on her shoulder. His chest pounded.  _ Stay. _ Christian tried to speak, but his voice failed him.

“Let me know what you find out. I'll text you the new hotel info. If there are vampires following me, they won't be now that the sun is rising.” The hallway felt small as she moved passed him. 

“You don't have to leave.”

She paused and looked up.  Christian clenched his jaw as she stood close to the red room. He wanted to reach around her, unlock the door and push her inside. His thoughts swirled as his gaze traced her swollen lips. He wanted to show her a million reasons to stay - a million reasons not to leave him.

“No, it's okay. I'll see ya later.” 

  
He watched her leave, every step she took toward the elevator was a pang of regret. But she was right, he was her boss. And she was trying to hero him uncover the murder of his dead wife. He cringed at the whirlwind of emotions. The elevator chime lifted him from the haze of dark thoughts. She was gone.


	12. Back to Work

There was a soft knock at the door of Buffy’s new hotel room. A voice just as soft called “Housekeeping” through the cheap plywood door. Buffy groaned to herself and pushed the covers away. She listened to the woman shuffling things around the maid cart. _The perk of a cheap hotel? You can hear everything outside your room. The downside of a cheap hotel room? You can hear EVERYTHING outside your room._ The room was clean, but obviously outdated with it’s mix of brown and yellow wallpaper and geometric print curtains. It was the closest hotel she was willing to drive to after her fight with Christian. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, pushing the negging thoughts of him further back and answered the door. 

Buffy looked down at the petite older woman in a beige maid’s uniform. “Hi, I’m good, thanks.”

The woman scrunched her brows and gave Buffy a sympathetic smile. “Are you sure, dear? I have fresh towels, toiletries - do you need your room straightened up?” She grabbed tiny bottles of shampoos, soaps and conditioners, piling them on top of a small stack of towels. 

It took Buffy a moment for the fog to clear and she touched her cheek. Word must have spread of the woman checking in before dawn with a bruised face. _The truth is just as scary._ “Actually, the towels and shampoo would be great. Thank you.”

The woman pushed the towels and extras into Buffy’s arms. “I slipped a few extra mints in there for you. Room service is #0 on the phone. If you’re staying tonight, too, we keep the kitchen open 24-7.”

Buffy gripped the items and gave a small smile. “Thank you.”

The woman returned the smile and pushed her cart to the next door. 

Buffy took the fluffy lot of towels into the bathroom and rested them on the counter. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. _Geez._ She frowned as she moved her head, trying to view the bruise at different angles. He hit her harder than she realized. The bruise was still sore and had the hint of yellow. _I don’t think I have enough makeup for this._ But she couldn’t wait out the bruise, it was time to get back to work. 

=========

She felt invigorated after a shower and blow dry. A little self care could go a long way after a terrible night. Buffy sat on the edge of her bed and lifted her phone from the night stand. She expected numerous texts and missed calls from Christian trying to apologize, but to her disappointment, there was nothing. Her shoulders slumped as she stared at his contact information. 

Buffy laid back on the bed and closed her eyes. _What are you doing? Why do you care? Just do your job, get paid, go home._  She held her phone above her face with a tight grip and scrolled through her contacts. _Back to work._ She thought more about the club and Jesse’s brother. She’s seen a lot of shady _people_ to know he wasn’t just a club owner. _Maybe I can get information from Jesse._ **Hey, Jesse. Mind showing an out of towner a great breakfast place?**

His response was quicker than she anticipated. It made her stomach jump with excitement. **Since bfast & lunch are both passed, how about dinner?** 

A grin tugged at her lips. **I’ll take it!**

**Great! 7pm. We’ll go to Katy’s downtown on 5th. Want me to pick you up?**

**I’ll look up the address and meet you. I’ve got a few things I want to check out before then.**

**K. Can’t wait to see you. :)**

She blushed and shook her head. _C’mon, Buffy, this is work, you’re using the guy to get information on his shady sibling. Don’t get crushes._ But her smile didn’t fade as she replied back with a smile emoticon.  

=========

Buffy was back in front of the bathroom mirror studying her face. She was thankful for all the late mornings Willow helped her test the best ways to hide the prior nights’ battlescars. She checked the time on her phone and frowned at the lack of notifications. It was 6:30 and she’d not even received a self-righteous rant. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. _Maybe some distance is what we need. We were getting too close._  

She fished out a casual pair of jeans and a red blouse from her bag and dressed quickly. She zipped up her black ankle boots and stuffed a thin silver blade in the elastic loops she’d sewn together into each boot. She then slipped on her black leather jacket, added a few small stakes to the hidden pockets. She kicked out her leg in the free space between the bed and the dress and quickly pulled out a dagger and shoved it forward. _This will do._

=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=

Christian watched the sunrise from the plush, white chair in his living room. He dug his elbow into the armchair and rested his cheek on his fist. The subtle scent of sunflower wafted around him with the warm air from the heating vents. Christian closed his eyes; he envisioned her before him, still in his nightshirt, her knees pressing into his hips as she sits straddled on his lap. His eyes flew open and he grimaced while driving his foot into the coffee table, slamming it into the couch. He listened as Ana’s file spread across the floor. He squeezed the arms of the chair, his knuckles turning white. He held his breath for ten seconds before taking a few deep breaths. He should sleep, he knew he should sleep, but his skin crawled; he couldn’t rest. 

_Just another day._ He'd have breakfast, shower, dress in one of many thousand dollar suits and head to the office. He'll spend the day in meetings with men and women equally well-dressed discussing business ventures and finances and how to make their fat wallets even fatter. And he'll be bored. The scent of sunflowers will haunt him. He'll miss the quips from the judgemental lips of a woman who doesn't care to please his every desire. He'll ache for the uniqueness and will of a woman who needs no one. He'll realize in the full boardroom of “Yes” men that he was a fool. 

Christian said his goodbyes to his staff as he rushed to the parking garage. It was 7:30; the conference call with his business partners in Hawaii went over by an hour, he was glad they didn’t video chat today, he wouldn’t have been able to mask the displeasure.

When Christian entered his car, he pulled his phone from his pocket and called Buffy. His heart raced as he waited for her to answer, but she never did. He punched the steering wheel and called Welch. 

“Yes, sir?”

“Buffy left this morning for another hotel. Someone broke into her room at the last one. But she didn't tell me where she was going.” 

“I'll find her, sir. I'll call you back shortly.”

Christian hung up his phone and started his car. _Maybe she's still investigating_. He drove towards the bar where Ana was last seen.  


	13. Unfinished Business

Christian drove into the parking lot that haunted him. Shattered glass reflected the waning sunlight against fine gravel.  _ What am I doing?  _ He cursed himself as he got out of his sports car. He loosened his tie and shed his suit jacket. He laid it over the seat back to avoid wrinkles and viewed the surroundings.

He was surrounded by rundown buildings of all sizes. Their connected alleys were a concrete maze full of cracks and the scent of rot.  _ What am I missing? _ Christian tried to focus as he moved passed a graffitied dumpster, but his subconscious kept pushing thoughts of Buffy.

Christian closed his eyes for a moment, fighting against the memory of their first meeting. How she rushed at all of his senses without warning. His hands ached to touch her despite his guilt. He could have stood in that dank alley all night thinking of her, but the sound of another’s shoe touching the pavement startled him.

His heart raced as he turned toward the sound. Christian squinted at the silhouette of a stranger in the last bit of sunlight. “Can I help you?”

“Curiosity killed the cat, Mr. Grey.” The voice came from the other side of the alley. Christian faced the man, his features clear in the dying light. 

“Do I know you? Is this about my wife?” He heard footsteps approach from behind, but his nerves kept him still.  _ How many are there? _

“Most people grieve and move on after losing someone. Why couldn’t you be most people, Mr. Grey? Instead, you had to investigate on your own. We could have let you continue chasing dead ends, but you crossed the line when you called  _ her _ . This ends with one warning.”

Christian fell to his knees as he felt the force of the other man’s fist against the back of his head. His vision blurred, he blinked rapidly, then the adrenaline kicked in. He kicked his leg back to the man’s knee behind him and pushed himself to his feet. “You’re right, I am not most people. I am willing to fight for as long as it takes.”

 

********

 

Buffy gripped the door of the restaurant and looked behind her. Her eyes narrowed to find Welsh watching her from down the street. “Seriously, worst tail ever,” she mumbled to herself as she went into the building.

She noticed Jesse immediately. He was even more stunning against a sea of pale faces; she grinned and gave a small wave as she walked through the crowded restaurant to the table.

Jesse stood as she approached. “I'm glad you texted me. I was worried I'd never see you again.”

Buffy blushed, “I almost didn't, honestly. But there's something about you, I couldn't help but want to see you again.”

He grinned. “Funny, I was about to say the same thing about you.”

“Oh, I'm nothing special.” She let Jesse push in her chair. Her eyes followed him as he sat back down. 

She put the menu in front of her face, trying to keep Welsh from spotting her. Buffy ignored the vibrating phone in her jeans.

“Uh, Laura? You okay?”

"Oh yeah, just curious to see everything on the menu.” Her laugh wavered.

Jesse raised a brow. “You know, you can talk to me. You're obviously hiding.” He turned his head to the door, ignoring the noisy tables around them. “Is it that older guy? Is he bothering you? Who is he?”

Buffy kept her menu up. “I'm not going to drag you into it. But he's someone that's not going to leave unless I go, too.”

Jesse pushed her menu flat between them; his brow slightly furrowed, eyes fixated on hers. “Laura, is he going to hurt you? What's going on?”

Buffy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, she could see his worry only increased. His back was now straight, she could feel the tremble of his foot shaking anxiously under the table. 

She smiled softly and reached for his hand, “I can promise you that no one is hurting me.” She gave him a soft, half-smile. “But if he's here, it's important and I have to go. I'll text you later.”

Jesse squeezed her hand. “I thought mysterious would be a turn on, but I’m just worried. 

Buffy leaned across the table and kissed his cheek. “Get use to it, my life pulls me in crazy directions.”

“Maybe one day I’ll get to be a part of it.”

She bit her lip and grinned, “I hope so, too.”

 

********

 

Buffy reached the waiting area with a scowl. “He better be dying.”

“He just might be.” He reached open the door for Buffy.

She looked for signs of satire in his expression as she walked passed him out of the restaurant and into the Seattle sunset. “You’re not kidding.”

“He’s being reckless.” He led Buffy to the car and opened the back door. “He turned off his phone, but I can still track him.

“How?”  _ Like I know anything about technology, but it’s better than awkward silence with my boss’s bodyguard. _

“After his helicopter crash, a separate GPS was installed on his devices in case anything happened again.”

The car’s navigation system alerted them of an upcoming turn. Buffy’s clutched the the stake in her jacket pocket and tried to take slow, deep breaths. The night was upon them, she knew what slipped out when the sun was down. Her heart beat harder the closer they got to the alley.    
  



End file.
